Four years. Four years since you, my soul mate, and I were separated. Your premature departure from this life had all but left me without a reason to cling to mine. Degenerative heart failure was the cause. But how? A heart that beat so vibrant and strong for me, had suddenly struggled, then failed, to beat strong enough for you. Songs of praise and worship served as a healing elixir for my mourning as you were delivered back to the rich Mother earth from which you came.

     In the days since your exodus I longed to be with you again. Again, to see the sparkle that was always apparent in your soft, brown eyes. Again, to feel the sensual touch of a man that only his woman can feel. Again, to laugh at that five o’clock shadow you always tried to pass off as a close shave. The vessel has been broken and returned to its maker. Yet, the sweet, aromatic contents are ever present. 

     You said you’d always be with me, and again, you’ve kept your word. The pain and anguish brought on by your sudden passing have been washed away by his arrival in a rejuvenating wave of love that has swept me from the shores of discontent, to the open seas of a new tomorrow. The physical similarities are that of night and day, which are just fine with me. Transition, I find, is easiest that way. And although the traits, mannerisms, and habits are there, he still brings a uniqueness that reminds me in unspoken terms the differences of past and present.   

     They say that the eyes are the mirrors of the soul. And looking deep into his, I can still see deep into yours. And if I look deep enough, I can see the sparkle that seems to have never left. Deep enough to feel more than comfortable with the sensual touch of another. Deep enough to laugh at that close shave he always tries to pass off as a five o’clock shadow. In the days since your exodus I longed to be with you. Now, no longer do I long…I am. 


By Darrell A. Cador © 2004